Lucky Me
by Vampiyaa
Summary: Ten/Rose Who Holidays St. Patrick's!fic. The Doctor lands on the planet Antios V, an Irish-colonised planet, during a St. Patrick's Day celebration, and things go awry when Rose wishes upon a four-leaf clover for the Doctor to notice her THAT WAY. Turns out she'll get her wish.


**Beta: natural-blues**

* * *

Lucky Me

Rose had been travelling with the Doctor for, oh, about three and a half years; and never once had they celebrated St. Patrick's Day. Apparently, there was something different about this year, because the Doctor had appeared in her bedroom that morning beaming away like he'd found a banana or a jar of jam in the cupboard, and announced that they were going to Antios V for St. Patrick's Day. He'd landed the TARDIS right in the middle of an honest-to-God field of clovers, and now they were trumping through a bustling crowd of humans cheering and laughing, wearing green from head to toe, tossing shamrocks and downing enough beers to make Jack Harkness proud.

"Green as far as the eye can see, Irish accents, shamrocks and alcohol shoved down your throat," he grinned happily, wagging his eyebrows at her. "The likes! The festival'll go on for about two days, so we have that much time to muck about and get into the Irish spirit."

Rose grinned back at him. "It's brilliant." He keened, beaming, and Rose added to appease his ego, "For once we're at a party and no one's arrestin' us for holding hands or sentencing us to execution 'cos I'm wearing the wrong shade of pink."

He stuck out his lower lip in a signature pout. "Doesn't happen _that _often."

"You keep tellin' yourself that," she laughed, giving his hand a squeeze.

The Doctor opened his mouth to retaliate, but something displayed on one of the vending booths caught his eye and he beamed. "Ooh, a Givonian temporal transducer!"

"Another piece of useless junk you want?" Rose teased, tongue in teeth.

He scowled at her. "I'll have you know, Rose Tyler, that the Givonians were an extremely logical race and had the best of technology."

Rose frowned and repeated, "'Were'?"

The ground was suddenly immensely fascinating to him. "They were destroyed in the Time War."

They fell into an awkward silence, Rose feeling guilty about making him bring up the Time War and wondering what to say next. With another squeeze to his hand, she smiled gently. "Go get your useless junk, yeah? I'm gonna check out the booths."

He smiled at her gratefully, eyes warm and full of something unidentifiable. "Don't wander off."

"Yes, sir," she saluted, giggling when he made a face at that.

Letting go of his hand, Rose turned to let him bounce over to the temporal something and scanned the booths, wondering which to go to. A handsome human bloke with ginger hair and searing green eyes was watching her from a booth further down, advertising that he was selling 'luck'. With a shy smile, Rose walked up to him. "'Lo."

"'Lo, Miss," he grinned in a thick Irish accent. "Name's Ryan O'Flaherty."

"Rose Tyler," she smiled, shaking his hand and blushing when his fingers lingered longer than necessary. "You human?"

He nodded, smile widening to show all thirty-two sparkling white teeth. "Want to buy some luck? S'only two credits."

"What d'you mean, 'buy luck'?" Rose asked.

He tapped the side of his freckled nose knowingly, before ducking under the booth and reappearing with what appeared to be a burlap bag. "In here's a thousand clovers, hand picked from the fields north of New Dublin. One of 'em has four leaves. If yeh're lucky 'nuff to get the four-leafed one, yeh can make a wish on it and it'll come true."

Rose doubted it, since she'd been wishing for months for the Doctor to stop leaving half-empty jars of jam with finger imprints in them in the refrigerator, but with a shrug and a swipe of the credit stick the Doctor had lent her, Ryan held out the bag of clovers and Rose obediently stuck her hand in it. Rummaging around for a second, Rose grasped the nearest clover and pulled it out. She gasped in shock when she saw that she was clutching one with four leaves, and Ryan beamed. "Congratulations, Miss!"

Rose's shock ebbed away, and she stared with scrutiny at the clover in her hand. "Out of a thousand clovers, I chose the only four-leafed one?"

"S'right, Miss," replied Ryan, still grinning away like she'd given him a million credits instead of a measly two.

"And if I check that bag, I'm not gonna find more four-leafed ones in there, am I?" Rose grinned, free hand on her hip.

Ryan's freckly cheeks flushed violent pink and he looked sheepish. "Okay, half of the clovers are three-leafed, the other half's four. Yeh got me."

Rose giggled. "S'all right, mate, I've been scammed far worse before. Do I still get to wish on it?" she added, tongue in teeth again.

"O' course," he said, waving his hand for her to proceed.

Rose bit her lip and thought of what to wish for. When she heard the Doctor's happy exclamation behind her, she closed her eyes and thought hard, _I wish the Doctor would notice me in _that _way. _Opening her eyes and smiling at Ryan, who looked a bit dazed, she said, "'Kay, done."

He blinked before smiling back, a little too charmingly. "Hope yeh get what yeh wished for, Miss."

"So do I," she muttered, before she felt a hand close around hers. Rose looked beside her to see the Doctor holding the temporal thingy under his other arm, Oncoming Stormy eyes locked on a now cowering Ryan, an angry dimple forming on his chin. "Oh, hello Doctor."

"Let's go, Rose," he said darkly, pulling her away from Ryan's booth.

Rose scowled at him, tossed a, "Bye Ryan!" over her shoulder and then rounded on him. "What the sodden hell was that?"

"What do you mean?" he asked airily, though his eyes were still tempestuous. "I just saved you from a boring, stupid bloke."

"He was not boring or stupid!" Rose fumed, wrenching her hand from his grasp in retaliation and trying to ignore the thrill she felt when he looked upset at the loss. "You're just jealous because he's not rude, and ginger!" He mumbled something that sounded like 'not jealous' and 'can't pull off the ginger look' before Rose spotted a chip stand, made with 'real Irish potatoes', or so it was advertised. "You can make it up to me by buying me chips," she told him, pointing to the chip stand and raising an eyebrow at him.

The Doctor smiled with affection and reclaimed her hand. "Deal."

She was decidedly more cheerful when he ordered them two plates of chips and something that the vendor called a 'shamrock shake', which was a sickly-looking green but tasted like a lime-flavoured milkshake.

Nobody saw the ginger-haired bloke quickly toss a pill into the Doctor's drink and slip back into the crowd.

* * *

They quickly polished off the chips, which were most definitely as good as advertised, and soon the sun was starting to set and the throng of Irish partygoers began to thin. The Doctor and Rose headed back to the TARDIS, holding hands as usual, only now the Doctor kept tracing gently swipes with his thumb against her palm and kept brushing his side against her too many times for it to be accidental.

"Doctor, are you drunk?" Rose asked amusedly, after he'd bumped into her for the umpteenth time.

"We didn't have any alcohol, remember, Rose?" he pointed out, but his eyes were dark and the way he said her name made it sound almost filthy.

She suppressed a shiver. "I know, but you keep bumping into me, an' you look pissed."

The Doctor frowned at the TARDIS looming into view. "I do feel odd. Like a buzzzzzzzzzzz. I like it," he added, beaming jovially.

"Okay, if you insist," Rose said, still eyeing him warily.

They reached the TARDIS a minute later, Rose opening the door with her key happily, leaving unnoticed the hooded looks the Doctor was sending her way. The TARDIS greeted her with a hum when they stepped into the console room, and she gave the console a pat before turning to the Doctor. "'M knackered. Gonna change into my jimjams an' I'll join you in the library, yeah? You promised you'd finish reading me _A Tale of Two Cities,_" she added, giving him a tongue-in-teeth grin.

The Doctor's half-lidded eyes zeroed in on her tongue, and he licked his lips deliberately. "Yes, Rose."

She paused at his tone, which sounded almost… seductive. Shaking that thought off, she gave him one last tentative smile before exiting the console room and half-running to her room. Once she was there, Rose shut the door hastily as though expected the Doctor to be chasing her, breathing a little heavily. What the _hell _was up with the Doctor? He was acting like Jimmy did whenever he'd wanted to shag! Hesitating, Rose asked the TARDIS, "Is something wrong with him, girl?" The TARDIS replied with a noncommittal hum, and Rose frowned. Either nothing was wrong or the TARDIS wasn't telling.

Relaxing now that she knew it wasn't an emergency, Rose stripped down to nothing but her knickers and picked out her usual pair of cotton sleep shorts and a vest top. She popped into the loo to wee and wash off her makeup, before tying her hair up in a messy bun and padding into the library.

The Doctor was already waiting for her, book in hand, seated in their favourite armchair near the fireplace. She flushed as he practically devoured her with his eyes when she walked towards him. It was almost like her wish from the St. Patrick's Day festival had come true— although, she knew, that was ridiculous. Rose merely gave him a shy, crooked smile and tried to pretend everything was normal when he lifted his arm to let her snuggle underneath it, as per their nightly routine. Her legs were draped over his and something hard was poking her on the thigh, which she sincerely hoped was a sonic screwdriver in his pocket. Neither made any comment about it as the Doctor weaved his arm around her, maybe a bit more possessively than normal, and started to narrate.

There had only been a few chapters to go in the first place, but to Rose it felt like an eternity— how the _hell_ was he able to pull off making Charles bloody Dickens sound like an erotica novel? His voice was low and raspy and right next to her ear, and she tried extremely hard not to shudder. Eventually his voice and the warmth from the fire started to soothe her to sleep as they usually did, and she dropped off against his chest.

* * *

It felt like ten minutes later when the Doctor was murmuring her name to wake up. She groaned in protest, frowning when he inhaled sharply at the noise. "G'way, Doctor."

"Rose…" he whispered.

"Human. Night. Sleep."

She burrowed herself closer into him, ignoring when he said her name again, quieter this time. Then Rose went rigid when she felt his nose nudge the sensitive spot where her neck and ear joined, and she jolted awake. What the hell was he doing?! Then his lips latched onto that spot and sucked, and a whimper flung itself unbidden from her throat. Her eyes flew open to search his for some form of explanation, but the only thing she could see from this angle was the top of his head.

"Doctor…?" Rose managed to breathe out in question.

"Rose," he groaned out at the sound of his name, peppering kisses down her throat and dipping his head to plant a few more on the swell of her breasts.

The Doctor's hands started to travel, one tracing a path up her leg and the other gripping her waist, and with the latter hand he dragged her close and pressed her bum against what she now knew what most definitely _not _a sonic screwdriver. She licked her lips and tried to breathe in to tell the Doctor to stop, that something was wrong with him, but his other hand dipped into her sleep shorts (oh) and anything she wanted to say flew out the window when two of his fingers slipped inside of her, sliding in with ease. Rose keened and bucked her hips, forcing his fingers deeper, and he let out another helpless-sounding moan.

"You're so wet, Rose," he hissed, fucking her with his fingers as he rutted his hips against her bum. "For me."

As though rewarding her, the Doctor's thumb flicked at her clit and she arched her back and moaned, feeling a sheen of sweat break out over her skin. His other hand left her hip and travelled to her cotton-covered breast, rubbing her already pebbled nipples with his index finger and another moan flung from her throat, one the Doctor echoed when she moved her hips again and rubbed against his erection. Pleasure coiled like a spring in her stomach the longer he thrust his fingers into her, occasionally stopping to pay attention to her clit before resuming, his ragged panting in her ear only heightening everything she was feeling. When his hand shoved its way up her vest top and curled around her naked breast, she cried out.

"Doctor… 'm gonna… if you keep… I will," she stammered through a cacophony of needy whimpers.

"Oh Rose, please come," he moaned, pounding his fingers into her harder and latching his mouth onto her neck again. "Want you to come. Please. Just…"

She kicked back her head as her whole body went rigid, pleasure coursing through her like crashing waves, and she shouted out his name as she came harder than she ever had in her life. He kept thrusting his fingers into her, helping her through her orgasm and bringing her down with slowing movements. Rose's limbs turned to jelly and she slumped against him, breathing only slightly heavier than he was. Through her pleasured haze she heard him mumbling, "So beautiful…" and it made her heart swell. When she got a bit of her strength back, she twisted around so she was straddling him, intent on returning this spontaneous favour, but before she could do anything he desperately yanked her down to his level and captured her lips, plunging his tongue into her mouth. He tasted like the milkshakes they'd had earlier (how could he? That was _hours _ago!) and something uniquely him. The Doctor moaned deliberately into her mouth when she slipped her hands into his hair and scraped her nails over his scalp, jerking his hips upward and pressing his erection right where her legs joined.

Rose pulled away for the briefest moment to undo the button on his trousers, but it was long enough to get a glimpse of his eyes. Unlike the norm for aroused males, his pupils weren't larger than normal— instead they were tiny pinpricks in a sea of dark brown.

Rose frowned confusedly, grabbing his face with both hands and scrutinising him to make certain it wasn't just a trick of the firelight. "Your eyes…" She could just assume that that was because he was alien, but something in her gut told her that wasn't the case. Which meant that everything the Doctor had done and said was because something was wrong with him. She tried not to look as devastated as she felt.

"Doctor," she mumbled, voice thick with near-tears. Rose cleared her throat and tried again, "Doctor, I think something's wrong with you."

"Want you, Rose," he whimpered, looking up at her with what he probably thought were doe-eyes.

She wondered how to reply to that and bit her lip, but quickly released it when the Doctor's eyes zeroed in on it and he let out another helpless noise. Rose tried to slide off his lap in as little a seductive manner as possible, but he grabbed her hips and held her stationary, now looking terrified. Taking his hands off of her and gripping them, Rose managed to stand up from the chair and told him, "Doctor, you're sick. Maybe you accidentally ate an aphrodisiac or something, but something's wrong."

"Are you gonna leave?" he whispered, and to her extreme surprise she saw tears well up in his eyes.

"Wh—?" she managed to get out, before he jumped out of the chair and clamped her to him, burying his face in her hair.

"Don't leave, Rose," he wailed into her neck, and her chest tightened when she realised he was shaking with sobs. "Don't leave me, don't leave me, don't leave me…"

He repeated the phrase over and over on a single, terrified breath until Rose calmed him down a bit by running soothing hands down his back and murmuring that she wouldn't leave him. When his sniffling subsided and he quietened completely, Rose tried pulling out of his embrace slowly, only to have him whimper and clutch at her some more. She resumed her ministrations and gentle murmurs, trying again to pull back when he relaxed a second time. This time he let her, though he kept his hands tightly around hers. With a gentle tug to his hand, Rose led him out of the library and into the hall, hoping the TARDIS would bring his bedroom door close. She did, being the helpful ship that she was, and Rose pushed open his door, leading him inside.

Turning to him, she was startled to find that the dark, hooded, lustful look was back in his eyes (hadn't he been crying less than thirty seconds ago?) before realising he'd gotten the wrong idea when she'd led him into his bedroom. Feeling guilty for using this to her advantage, Rose pulled back his TARDIS-blue duvet and motioned wordlessly for him to get in the bed, which he did with no complaints, clearly under the impression that she was going to join him. He frowned when Rose instead pulled the sheets over his suited frame, tucking him in, looking a bit put out.

"Try to sleep, Doctor, 'kay?" she said kindly, even though she was dangerously near tears (_don't now, stop it, there'll be plenty of time for that later_). "I'll be next door if you need me."

Rose started to let go of his hand and leave, but he desperately scrambled up and grabbed it. "You said you wouldn't leave."

"'M not leavin'," she assured him, pushing on his shoulders gently to get him to lie back down. "Just gonna be in my room, is all. Try to get some sleep, all right?"

"Stay with me," he pleaded.

Knowing full well that that wasn't a clever idea, Rose merely gave him a half smile, the best she could muster whilst staving back tears, dropped his hand and left the room, closing the door behind her with a gentle click. She stayed at the doorway for a few seconds to make sure he wouldn't throw a fit or get up, and heard nothing but silence. Lower lip already trembling, Rose made her way to her own bedroom next to his, managing to stave off her tears until she hurled herself into bed, hugging her pillow tightly and sobbing into it so the Doctor wouldn't hear her. He'd said so many beautiful things to her; he'd kissed her, made her _come, _for God's sake, and all of it was because of some stupid aphrodisiac. She was an idiot for thinking the Doctor would ever do something like that with her of his own accord. When whatever was wrong wore off, he was going to positively _hate _himself. Her tears of self-pity turned into ones of fear— what if this made him hate her for not stopping him earlier? What if he piloted the TARDIS to the Estates and kicked her out because of this?

The TARDIS hummed soothingly at her, and Rose accepted the comfort for a moment. He wouldn't kick her out; he'd just burst into tears when he'd thought she was leaving him. Then she remembered something and sat up, glaring angrily through her tears at the ceiling.

"You said he was okay," she said accusingly, keeping her voice low so the Doctor wouldn't overhear. "You told me nothing was wrong!"

She flung her pillow at the ceiling, burrowing herself into her sheets and blocking her ears against the TARDIS's guilty hums. Eventually Rose's tears subsided, and she was suddenly exhausted. With blissful unawareness, she drifted off a second time.

* * *

Rose woke up when her door opened and closed, unwilling to open her eyes, as they were heavy from crying. Suddenly the mattress next to her depressed as someone's weight joined hers; a warm body pressed against hers and an arm snaked around her waist under the duvet. She sighed despairingly, uncurling his arm from her and sitting up, and when she looked at him she let her despair shine through her face. His hair was rumpled and his suit jacket was missing, clad in just his Oxford. "Doctor, I told you, you're gonna regret this. You're sick."

"'M not sick, Rose," he mumbled, not meeting her eyes.

"Yes you are," she said, pulling the comforter off of her legs and starting to get up to lead him back to his bedroom.

"No, I'm not, Rose," he said quietly, pulling her back down with him. "The aphrodisiac left my system over an hour ago."

The fact that he had acknowledged that he had been under the influence of an aphrodisiac alone made Rose pause, but then came the realisation that he had come into her room and slipped into bed with her while completely clear-headed. Slumping down a bit, she whispered, "Then why are you here?"

The Doctor inhaled deeply, still staring at the frayed thread in her sheet. "Everything I said… a-and did… while I was… er, it was all true. I didn't lie."

"Then… then you actually want to… to kiss me and…?" she stammered, wondering if she was still asleep.

He finally met her eyes, and not only were his pupils back to normal, his eyes were deep, soulful and full of vulnerable sincerity. "I've always wanted to."

She inhaled, breath shuddery and uneven, unwilling to quite believe it just yet. "Always?"

He nodded. "Since Cardiff with the Gelth." Wow. That was almost as long as she'd wanted him. The Doctor propped himself up on one elbow, using his other hand to wipe away the stray tear on her right cheek. "Can I kiss you again, Rose?"

"You'd better," she sniffled, and they both chuckled a little before leaning forward and slanting their lips against the other's.

He lowered her back down onto the bed, climbing on top of her and kissing her deeply, not with his previous frenzy but with gentleness and love. She slipped her hands back into his hair and tugging lightly at the wild strands, emulating the shudder that went through him. His own hands quested, one cupping the side of her face and the other pausing hesitantly at the hem of her vest top. Pulling away, the Doctor gave her a questioning look. "Can I…?"

She nodded, one hand leaving his hair to help him pull off her vest top. Rose heard his sharp inhale of breath when her breasts were revealed, and when she pulled off her top properly and tossed it aside she saw that he was staring at her slack-jawed. Grinning a bit, tongue poking out at the corner of her mouth, she said, "See anything you like?"

He smiled too, with less teasing and more sincerity. "You're so beautiful."

Rose flushed, and he followed the trail of red with his tongue, travelling down her neck and to the swell of her breasts. She hummed in pleasure when he slipped a nipple into his mouth, putting his oral fixation to better use than licking walls in Torchwood House, while his other hand fondled her other breast. Rose set to work unbuttoning his shirt as best she could with his head between arms, having to coax him to let go of her breast so she could take his arms out of the shirt. He nibbled on her nipple, prompting a squeak from her, and to retaliate she flicked open his trousers, dipped her hand in and wrapped around his cock.

The Doctor released her nipple before he hurt her and hissed out, "Fuck, Rose…"

She pumped him with one hand while trying to simultaneously pull down his trousers (no pants, she noticed, which made her wonder if he ever wore pants, and the thought of him never wearing pants on any of there adventures make her shiver a bit) and he tugged ungracefully at her sleep shorts, barely coherent with her hand stroking his length. She filed that away for later — what a future advantage that would be — and helped him by wriggling out of her knickers too, until they were both completely naked. Lining himself up, he searched her eyes for any doubts and, finding none, sliding inside her.

The most violent shudder Rose had ever witnessed rippled through him and his eyes fluttered shut with ecstasy, and that had to be the sexiest thing Rose had ever seen a bloke do in her life. A moan escaped her throat and she pushed her hips up, urging him to move, which he did with a grateful sob. Their lips met again, the kiss a little more desperate now as they searched for synchrony, finding it quickly because they were just that brilliant. She keened into his mouth and he panted raggedly, respiratory bypass be damned right now. After a bit his thrusts started to grow faster and sloppier, and his pants turned into groans. He grabbed her left knee with his arm and urged it around his waist, swearing in chiming Gallifreyan when he slid deeper into her with each thrust.

"Rose," he ground out, "are you… you've got to… I'm close," he moaned.

"Almost," she managed to grunt out.

He reached down between them and rubbed her clit in sync with their thrusts, and after a few seconds her channel clamped down around him as she reached her orgasm, throwing his sanity to the wind and making him come inside her with a ragged sob of relief.

The Doctor collapsed on top of her, breathing heavily, and he tried to manoeuvre himself off of her but she kept him in place with a firm squeeze to his bum. Giving her a raised eyebrow he said, "Aren't I crushing you?"

She shook her head, humming. "I like it. S'comfy."

"Well then," he said happily, "I'll have to be on top of you more often."

"A lot more often," she agreed, and they shared a laugh before she shut him up with a snog. "I wished for this, y'know," she admitted in a small voice.

"To be crushed by me?"

Rose swatted his arm. "To have you… um, notice me." She frowned. "S'matter of fact, all this happened only an hour after I made that wish."

"Rose, I've been noticing you for a lot longer than that," the Doctor confessed, still blushing despite her already knowing this.

Rose smiled endearingly and wrapped her arms around him, making a happy sound in the back of her throat at the skin on skin contact. "So, then, you want… this?" she asked. "Like, shagging and stuff? Seems a bit domestic."

"Of course I want this, Rose," he assured her. "And it is most definitely _not _domestic. We still don't have a mortgage."

Rose burst into giggles and he watched her, smiling. "So, you don't mind sleepin' in the same bed, sharin' a loo, arguing over whose got their toothbrush on the other's side of the medicine cabinet…?"

"Nope!"

"Then I'm gonna shag you all the time," she told him, and he grinned goofily. "At really inappropriate times, too. Like the next time we get arrested or something."

"Prison sex," the Doctor hummed. "Always thought about that."

"Next time you cook breakfast, everything's gonna burn 'cos I'm gonna be distractin' you the whole time," Rose said.

"Sounds brilliant," he beamed.

"An' first thing tomorrow morning, no matter what happens, I'm shagging you in the clover field," she told him sternly, though the effect was lost with her grin.

He hummed happily. "Lucky me."

* * *

Ryan O'Flaherty grazed through the field of clovers, as the ones he'd had in his bag from yesterday were starting to shrivel up, searching mainly for four-leafed ones, which were luckily more common on Antios V than ones on Earth. He kept to the remote area out of sight from the festival— it wasn't good business for his customers to be watching him picking four-leafed clovers. Just like it wasn't good business for his customers to know that Ryan O'Flaherty the human was actually Ryan O'Flaherty the Myleian, a race identical to humans save for a small, circular pattern underneath their right ears and heightened telepathic abilities. Especially since he was trying to sell 'luck', and it wouldn't do for people to know that whenever they wished for something, he could hear it, and did his very best to make it come true in some way. That brought people back, thinking his clovers were actually 'lucky'.

He thought back to yesterday, to the beautiful English blonde woman who'd wished upon his clover for 'the Doctor' to notice her in 'that way' (it was perfectly clear what 'that way' meant, since he'd been noticing her in 'that way' since he'd spotted her in the crowd). Ryan had almost snorted aloud— judging by the way that Doctor bloke had come trumping over like a possessive husband when he'd spotted the two of them, he had already 'noticed' her quite some time ago. And from the powerful telepathic presence the Doctor was giving off, he probably drove men away from that Rose girl without her even noticing.

Still, it didn't stop Ryan slipping the Doctor the most powerful aphrodisiac he could get his hands on — since he was pretty sure the Doctor would be able to fight off anything lesser — just to encourage him to make it vocal.

The sound of grunting and groaning met Ryan's ears, as did the hazy but still dominant presence of another telepathic mind. Frowning, Ryan craned his head, looking for the source, only to spot said Doctor and Rose naked some few feet away, half-covered by clovers, him pounding into her and her wrapping her legs around his waist. Smirking to himself, Ryan turned away to give them some privacy and headed back towards his booth, knowing full well that the aphrodisiac would have worn off by now.

That hopefully made another loyal customer.

**A/N: Fourth in the Who Holidays series :3 Being someone of Irish descent (and being a fricking HUGE Rose/Doctor shipper) I thought our favourite pairing shagging in a clover field would be appropriate for St. Patrick's Day. In an unrelated matter, I've made a wish on my very own four-leafed clover for the Doctor to show up on my doorstep with a present bow on his head. I'm still waiting for it to come true.**

**Happy birthday to my Grandpa Keith, who would have been 86.**


End file.
